


We Might Breathe the Same Air Tonight

by mypantsflewoff



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017 Eastern Conference Semi-Finals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11100945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mypantsflewoff/pseuds/mypantsflewoff
Summary: “I’m take care now, make sure you okay,” Geno says quietly, eyes closing.  At least here he knows he can keep Sid safe.ORThe aftermath of Matt Niskanen's hit on Sid during Game 3 of the ECSF.





	We Might Breathe the Same Air Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> After watching Sid get hurt in Game 3, I really needed to know that he was cared for....so this happened. 
> 
> This is my first foray into writing a non-AU fic in this fandom, so please be gentle! Entirely unbeta-ed since I wanted it out of my WIPs pile.
> 
> Title is shamelessly lifted from "Please" from the Miss Saigon libretto.

Geno isn’t on the ice when it happens. 

He stands up and yells as soon as he sees Sid go down and is halfway over the boards before Sully can get a restraining hand on his shoulder. Geno’s whole world slows down. The seconds stretch and Sid _isn’t moving_. Geno can’t breathe. It’s horrible and Geno needs to move, or someone needs to _do something_ for fuck’s sake. 

Then time catches up in a flash: the trainer is crouched where Sid is lying prone on the ice and Geno sees red as Sid struggles to sit up. The trainer talks to Sid for a minute, then two Penguins help him up and he skates gingerly under his own power. His head is bowed and Geno can’t see his eyes, can’t see if he’s in pain. 

Geno shakes off Sully’s hand and practically vaults over the boards, but he’s too far away from Sid to talk to him. His mouth is open, ready to say…what? We’ll score for you? Who do you want me to fucking flatten? Sid is flanked by the trainer, Hainsey, and Horny, and his eyes briefly meet Geno’s as he skates by. They’re a little unfocused. Geno’s heart drops into the vicinity of his stomach. He wants to believe that Sid will be back out on the bench by the first intermission, but he needs to play — they all need to play — like Sid isn’t coming back at all. Sully is livid, yelling at the refs about missing the slashing call, and Geno’s anger is still boiling. If he’s not careful he’s going to take a stupid penalty at this rate; the old image of Sid admonishing him for being so transparent in his rage that teams can goad him into taking unnecessary penalties looms large in his mind. 

No, he has to stay in control. For Sid and for the team. 

So Geno tamps down his anger. He has to, if they’re going to have any chance of winning tonight. Despite this, he does take a penalty on his next shift —albeit for closing his hand around the puck and not, say, punching Sasha squarely in his smug face. He’ll take it, all things considered.

The rest of the period is chippy, yet somehow they get out of it down by only one goal. When the horn sounds, Geno practically flies down the hallway and into the room looking for Sid. 

There’s no sign of him. Not good. 

Sully goes over the changes they’ll make for now and leaves, presumably to go talk to the medical staff about Sid. The mood in the room is tense. Shears and Jake both have grim looks on their faces as they re-lace their skates. Geno knows he should say something motivating, but there’s a huge fucking lump in his throat. He looks over at Kuni, who fortunately knows exactly what they need now and starts giving an impromptu “let’s fucking DO this” speech.

It kind of works. They surge onto the ice in the second ready to play hard. And less than a minute in, Geno, Kuni, and Rusty combine to put a puck in the back of Holtby’s net. For a moment Geno feels weightless as the video review deems it good, until the goal is overturned for goalie interference on a coach’s challenge. Geno grits his teeth and keeps shooting, keeps fighting. 

Only a minute or so later, Horny and Shears collide in the neutral zone and Shears goes down hard. He gets off the ice on his own, but doesn’t return to the bench. Geno can hear Horny quietly swearing at himself in frustration for the remainder of the period, despite later saving a goal on Flower by sweeping it out of the crease with his glove at the last second. 

The second period ends and they’ve held the Caps scoreless in the period. They’re only 1 goal down. They can do this.

It’s quiet in the room during the second intermission. Sully lets them know that neither Sid nor Shears will be returning tonight and notes a few adjustments they should make. There are no motivating speeches this intermission and when they’re about to line up it’s too quiet, Geno thinks. 

“We play for them,” Geno forces out into the silence, looking each of his teammates in the eye, one by one. “We play for them.”

Eyes slowly light up around the room as the guys start repeating this. It crescendos into a roar, intermingled with “Fuck yeah!” and “Let’s go boys!” 

It’s the fire they needed. The third period is another battle, and this time the Caps manage to squeak one past Flower halfway through. Down 2-0, Geno keeps pushing, looking for any and every chance to get to the net. It finally pays off with less than 2 minutes to play, off a feed from Phil and Schultzy: a gorgeous short side goal over Holtby’s left shoulder. And less than a minute later Geno passes to a wide open Schultzy who sends a slapshot through traffic and into the net to tie the game. The crowd is on their feet and Geno feels like he’s flying as he skates past the bench for fistbumps. 

And then the Caps score 3 minutes into overtime. So close, yet so far, even with how hard the team played. It just wasn’t enough tonight.

_X_

Normally after this kind of game Geno tries to beg off media obligations, preferring to hide and deal with the loss in his own way. But tonight he’s proud of his team and what they did in the face of everything that happened, so he shoulders the weight of his letter and does interviews. He makes sure to articulate that everyone battled hard and that he is so proud of them. It’s a night when he wishes his English was a bit better, in case his simple words aren’t enough to convey the depth of his feelings.

After the media scrum, Geno goes through his post-game routine on autopilot. The image of Sid prone on the ice is still burned into his retinas. Now that he doesn’t have a game to concentrate on, it’s even more upsetting. 

“Mario took Sid home after the game ended,” Flower says quietly, appearing at Geno’s side and straightening the cuffs of his shirt. “Rusty’s going to stop in and check on Shears. Could you —”

“Yes, I’m go see Sid.” Geno was going even if Flower hadn’t said anything. He needs to see the aftermath of the hit with his own eyes, needs to atone for his inability to protect Sid when he needed it most. 

“Let him know we’re all thinking of him.” Flower pats Geno on the shoulder and heads out.

_X_

Geno lets himself into Sid’s house. The lights are off downstairs and he leaves his stuff in a pile by the door, kicking off his shoes and ditching his suit jacket. He feels his way up the stairs and fortunately there’s a night light glowing in the hallway lighting the way to the master bedroom and keeping him from banging into anything. The bedroom door is barely ajar and Geno is careful not to make much noise as he slips into Sid’s bedroom. It’s much darker than the hall and Geno takes a moment to let his eyes adjust.

Sid is curled up on his side under the blankets, looking smaller than Geno has ever seen him. It’s practically the same scene he encountered after Sid’s first concussion years ago. Geno had hated that he couldn’t protect Sid back then. The feeling is even worse now and he tries to get a handle on that particular personal failing before approaching Sid. 

“Thinking too loud. Just come over here.” Sid flaps an arm vaguely in Geno’s direction and he immediately complies, almost falling over himself to perch on the edge of the bed. His hand comes down lightly on Sid’s shoulder. 

“Tell guys I’m check on you. How’s head?”

Sid shrugs a little, eyes still closed. “I’ve had worse.”

Geno huffs. “Not funny, Sid. You set alarms?” He reaches for the phone on the nightstand to check.

“Yes, every two hours.”

“Good. I’m stay, make sure you wake up. Ask questions.” They’re following the protocol to a fucking T, even if Sid tries to convince him otherwise.

“G, you really don’t ha—”

“Yes. I do. Not getting out of this, Sid.” Geno climbs onto the other side of the bed and lays down on top of the blankets, pulling a throw over himself. His clothes are going to be a wrinkled mess in the morning but he gives exactly zero fucks about that in the face of Sid’s comfort. He curls carefully around Sid and lets his hand wrap gently around Sid’s upper arm. “I’m take care now, make sure you okay,” Geno says quietly, eyes closing. At least here he knows he can keep Sid safe.

Sid lays motionless for so long that Geno is sure he’s fallen asleep. 

“You— thanks, G.” Sid’s voice is rough as he turns over to face Geno, eyes fluttering open to look up at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Geno answers by pressing his face into Sid’s hair. It’s soft without all the gel he usually puts in it. Sid scoots closer and Geno wraps him up a little tighter, a hand pressing firmly between Sid’s shoulder blades. 

“Heard your interview,” Sid mumbles. “I heard you say you were proud of everyone. Of how they played.”

“Is true. Caps think we fall apart without you, but we play hard. Play hard for you and Shears. Almost win too.” 

Sid hums, low and thoughtful. “I wish I could’ve watched. Mario filled me in. I — your goal Geno, I wish I could have seen that.”

“Was beautiful goal.” Geno smiles into Sid’s hair. “I’m score for you.”

Sid ducks his chin a little, and Geno doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s blushing.

“Thanks, G.”

“Welcome. Now, too much talk. Time for sleep,” Geno chides gently, closing his eyes and finally allowing the weight of today to begin to dissolve into the promise of tomorrow.

“Mmkay.” Sid settles and Geno feels the tension start to seep from his limbs.

“Next game we win for you,” Geno whispers as he pulls Sid a little closer, and feels Sid smile into his chest before sleep overtakes them both.

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry with me over on my [tumblr](http://mypantsflewoff.tumblr.com)!


End file.
